We All Need Saving
by movieholic
Summary: The voice was tinny, robotic almost. But he couldn't hear it, he couldn't hear anything.
1. Chapter 1

It started with headaches. They weren't uncommon, especially as a SVU detective, but they were always there. Constantly pressing against his skull, pressing and pounding until he'd feel like he'd pass out from the pain.

Then there was the dizziness. Now that scared him. The room spinning in mindless circles, like a twisted version of Ring-Aroun'-the-Rosie. Especially on the streets, on a case. He couldn't stand the idea of something happening to himself or his partner, just because he felt dizzy. He no longer drove because of it, because of the overwhelming fear of a dizzy spell hitting him while on the road. The streets weren't safe enough as it was, and the notion of hundreds of innocent people unknowingly entrusting their lives to him were sickening enough. The blur of faces, lights, cars, buildings all meshing into a black mass of nothingness were not something he should be seeing often. He knew.

It was not long after his temporary blindness did he know something was wrong. Very wrong. The headaches, and the dizziness were worry enough, but the sporadic seizure that overtook him late one night was the last straw. And he clearly remembered that night. It was a clear one, which was unusual enough, and cool.

He had finally closed a case file with a sigh, grinding his knuckles into his temple, hoping the pain on the outside of his forehead would quell the one inside. No such luck. He had bit his bottom lip hard, splitting the skin, not even noticing until the coppery taste of his own blood filled his mouth. He had stood, and walked slowly towards the kitchen sink. Every step caused another flare of pain to rise behind his eyes, and the littlest of light entering the narrowed slits made him want to vomit.

Finally reaching the sink, he blindly reached for the right knob, pulling it until he could no longer. Cold water crashed and splattered, landing on his counters and soaking his clothing. He didn't care. He scooped handfuls and threw them on his face, rubbing his stiff neck with a cool hand, a content moan escaping his parted lips.

Wincing he turned it off. The headache had subsided somewhat, leaving a dull ache in it's wake. He blinked his eyes open slowly, the thick lashes beaded with water droplets. His mouth, with his pink lips shaped in an oblong "o", felt dry. Resting his forearms on the water soaked counter, he shivered and hung his head.

Sucking in mouthfuls of air, his throat becoming parched as well, he shook. He squeezed his eyes shut, his body trembling visibly. He blindly reached towards the kitchen wall, knocking the phone of it's hook. He fumbled it, dropped it again, and sent a quick thank you up to whoever created the once annoying cords.

With numb fingers, he managed to dial three numbers. 9. 1. 1. He couldn't breathe. He felt his chest tightening. Darkness ebbed in from the corners of his eyes, until they overtook the glowing blue irises. He dropped the phone, and fell to the ground in a heap. His body jerked and twitched against the linoleum, administering only a soft sound of starched cloth being ruffled. The phone banged loudly against the wall, echoing in the dark empty house, as plastic hit plaster.

"Hello? Hello? Can I help you? Is everything okay?"

The voice was tinny, robotic almost. But he couldn't hear it, he couldn't hear anything.


	2. Chapter 2

She remembered that night clearly. It was unusually clear out, and a soft wind blew cold air through the alleys. She remembered the call, and the news. She remembered knowing beforehand, unknowingly witnessing a legend's fall.

She knew something was wrong. Even though something was always wrong, and she hated admitting that, but something was always wrong in his life. But when they held discussions on whatever case they were working on, he'd go quiet. As if he forgotten how to speak. She'd see his mouth working, his lips quivering against one another, as he'd stare up a at the pictures of the vics. She always believed it was just his way of dealing with them. Dealing with the pain of their job. She didn't know the truth. She just knew something was wrong, again.

So when she received the call to meet the Captain at the hospital, that "something happened," she knew her fears had been confirmed. She knew that the angry lashing out, then remorseful expression followed seconds later, were not attributed to their cases anymore. The long pauses and silences weren't his way of avoiding talks, he just couldn't speak. Literally.

She had met up at the hospital at the same time the ambulance carrying him did. She wished she hadn't been so fast in getting there, because watching him seize was unnatural. Inhuman. Not him. She heard cries of, "Start a line! 15 liters of O2!"

"Push 4 milligrams of Ativan!"

"Puls/ox!?"

"Move, move out of the way! Did you get that damn line started yet?"

"Someone get to me as soon as you get his vitals! Get a tox screen too!"

She had felt sick. The room spun in a colorful blur, the scrubs of the doctors and nurses blinding her as they raced pace. She realized with a little relief that he had stopped seizing, although his body jerked in the aftermath. She followed them long enough to get outside the room, but she was stopped by a nurse bearing a grim expression.

"Sorry ma'am, no one allowed in right now. Have a seat, we'll get to ya as soon as possible." With those words, the door was shut and the sounds of frantic voices disappeared. They were instead replaced by phones, shuffling of papers, beeping. Like the bullpen. Almost.

She had expelled a breath, and leaned against a wall, pushing her bangs off her forehead. She felt like collapsing, and was relieved once more to see the Captain come around the corner. He was out of breath, but his face remained stoic with years of wisdom.

"He okay?"

She shook her head, her mouth unhinged. Without looking at him, she whispered, "I have no idea."

And like a badly edited montage, she paced the room. She found herself flipping through a magazine, without reading it. Sipping at a sludgy coffee supplied by her Captain, wondering when he found the time to get it. Once more, she found herself leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, eyes trained on a scuff mark on the ground.

"Hon? Are ya family?"

Her head snapped up, the voice of the nurse was by her ear. She scanned the room to find that the Captain has disappeared. She blinked her eyes and turned to face the nurse. "Huh?"

"Are ya family, sweetie?"

She didn't know how to respond. They were siblings at heart, connected by a special bond that only few partners felt. She nodded, her eyebrows furrowed. She was saved by her boss. "Yes, not by blood. But at the 1-6, we're all family."

The nurse nodded, she placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Do any of you know what happened?"

"No," it was a quick, sharp, "Get to the point" no.

"Mr.-"

"Detective."

"Excuse me, Detective Stabler suffered from a seizure. Until we have more tests, we cannot confirm if it was a new on-set seizure, epilepsy, cancer, or from an injury to the head. Do any of you have any information that could help us narrow it down?"

A long silence filled the room. Not even the sounds of beeping, phones, or shuffling were heard.

"No, he doesn't have epilepsy. He did, however, suffer a severe head injury a few weeks ago, blunt head trauma. He was left momentarily blinded."

The nurse nodded, had jotted down the Captain's words. "Anything else?"

"He..." she remembered swallowing roughly, a lump in her throat. "I don't know if this counts, but he's been having a lot of headaches. And moments where he would stop talking, like he couldn't form words. I just thought that he was being himself. And his neck, it's been bother him a lot too. But that's," she shook her head. "That's the cot he sleeps on, in the crib. Or his couch. They suck."

The nurse's expression had saddened. It was clear what it was, to her.

"A head CT will confirm what I believe it is," she whispered, her strong voice failing her.

"What?"

"Cancer, honey. A brain tumor. All the symptoms fit. He may have cancer." It was whispered, and the awestruck look in their eyes told her they were devastated already.

"Cancer...?"

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, ma'am. Would you please give my detective and I a minute? Let us know when he'll be okay for visitors."

"Okay," she walked away and turned back. "I'm sorry, folks.

"We know," it was softly spoken.

She looked up to see his concerned brown eyes. "Cap'n? Cancer?"

"Liv," he closed his eyes and shook his head, "We don't know yet. We don't."

"I know, that's what's killing me."

She remebered her words, the sounds, the bitter taste of coffee. She remembered the smells of urine, sweat, and anesthetic. She remembered that night clearly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Present Day:**

The sounds of retching brought Olivia to her feet quickly. She pounded down the hall of her home, nearly tripping over the hem of her flannel bottoms. Skidding to a stop, she gently knocked on the bathroom door and called, "You okay? Elliot?" She tried the doorknob, and sighed with relief when it turned. "I'm coming in, alright? Hope you're decent," she murmured, pushing the door open slowly. She caught sight of her partner on the tiled floor, grasping his head in pain as he fought off another bout of dry heaves.

Olivia immediately dropped to her knees and crawled over to where her partner sat. Wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders, she pulled him close. "Did you take the Compazine?" she asked softly.

Moaning, he nodded. "Yeah…half hour or so…ago."

"It should kick in real soon then," she sighed, pressing her cheek to his bristly hair. After a few minutes of Elliot's heaving breathy filling the near silence, she asked, "You up for some food? Maybe some toast? Or soup?"

"God…" he shook his head and puffed his cheeks out, "No, no food."

"How 'bout juice?" she tried, her tone soft and hopeful.

"No, Liv, I'm okay…" he tilted his head back to meet her eyes, "Really. Thanks."

Sighing, she ran a hand over his damp hair. "You have another session tomorrow…are you up for it?"

Elliot exhaled and inhaled sharply, trying to steady his rapid breathing. "As I'll…ever be, I guess." He sagged against her body, emitting a pathetic moan. "I hate this…"

"Me too," she remarked.

"How many…more? This is the third…or fourth…" he settled his head in her lap comfortably, running a hand over his stomach in order to soothe it. "I lost count."

"It's the fifth, I think. But it doesn't matter, it seems to be working."

"I hate it…my hair was just beginning to show again." He made a feeble attempt to touch it, but decided against it when his stomach roiled.

Pushing his hand back down, she patted it before allowing him to grasp her own tightly. Caressing his palm with her thumb, she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. "Have you seen the kids lately?"

"The other day. They get so big…so fast," he yawned and closed his own eyes. "Especially Eli," he smiled proudly, "I thank God everyday…that I get to see him at all."

Olivia smirked as she pictured the bubbly blonde headed boy. He had the trademark blue eyes that all of the Stabler's seemed to have, and adopted the half grin his father was extremely fond of using. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head, that little boy will be a heartbreaker.

"Hey," Olivia's eyes flew open as she looked down to Elliot's exhausted face, "Whatcha thinking up there?"

"I'm picturing Eli," she replied with a smile, "He's going to be a heart-" she cut herself off and looked away. No one knew if Elliot would live long enough to see Eli become a heartbreaker, or even if he would see Eli walk and talk for that matter. "Sorry, El."

"For what? You know…I hate it, when you all…walk on eggshells around me," he wheezed, although glad he was able to say all of that without heaving.

Olivia yawned and looked at her wrist, before she realized that she wasn't wearing a watch. "It's late," she said anyway, "You need help up?" When he finally responded with a nod, she gently pushed him into a sitting position and pulled herself to her feet. "Come on," she held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. "Bed time."

After a few failed attempts, Elliot found himself on his feet. He steadied himself against the wall, before making a few tentative steps toward the door, with Olivia's support. Together, they made it to Olivia's guest bedroom that he had been sleeping in since the fateful news. Throwing himself on top of the tangled sheets, he buried his head into a pillow and promptly fell asleep.

"G'night, Elliot." Olivia turned the lights off and returned to the bathroom. She proceeded to clean out the toilet and sink, before jumping into the shower with the notion of it being useless to go back to bed.

* * *

"Has he been sleeping?"

"As much as he can, he's doing better than last time." Olivia pushed her bangs off of her forehead, watching as Elliot toyed with his IV line. She knocked on the glass pane that separated them, and he looked up sharply. When he saw her in the window, he smiled sheepishly and tossed his head back. "He's been vomiting a lot, though."

"That's a normal side effect from the chemo…anything else?" the doctor, Jonathan "Call me John" Cohn. He tapped the clipboard he was holding with a pen, eyeing Olivia with worrisome green eyes.

"No, just the vomiting…and the sweating…and the not eating when I tell him too," she sighed and raked a hand through her hair, "He's a stubborn son of a bitch."

John released a laugh, and placed hand over top of hers. "He's doing great though, from what we can see. The cancer is going into recession, and if he continues to progress as well as he is now-" he paused he regrouped. "Barring any unforeseen circumstances, we may be able to surgically remove the tumor. Of course there are many factors that need to take place first, but who knows, " he shrugged and smiled easily, "It's progress."

Olivia offered him a relieved smile and rested her forehead against the glass, watching as Elliot began to nod off in his chair. "That's great to hear, John." She turned to face the younger man and hugged him, "Thanks."

Not at all taken aback, he laughed and welcomed the hug. "No prob, hon. Just make sure he continues to take his meds, get some sleep, and eat some food." He pulled away and glanced at his watch, "Whoops, I'm a little late for a consult."

Olivia nodded and pulled away, turning back to look into the room. "See you later John," she said, offering a small wave as he scrunched his nose and began walking away.

"Call if you need anything!" he called over his shoulder.

"I will," she murmured, placing a hand on the glass.

* * *

"Damn it!"

Once more running down the hall, Olivia turned into the bathroom and caught Elliot pressing toilet paper to his neck. She rolled her eyes and sagged against the doorway. "I thought you hurt yourself!"

He turned to her, his face half covered in shaving cream. Pointing to a small trickle of blood, he growled, "I did hurt myself."

"Whatever," she muttered as she looked down at her waist to make sure she had her gun and badge. "I'm running late, would you hurry up?"

Holding up both hands, he resumed shaving as fast as he could. Nearly finished he caught her gaze in the mirror and asked, "So who pulled the short straw?"

"Uh, it's a surprise," she cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"Well," he turned around to face her, and leaned against the sink. He dabbed at his neck with a towel as he said, "It's my babysitter…so who is it?"

"He's from Major Case," she began, but when she caught his bug-eyed expression she quickly plowed on. "Mike Logan! He's been suspended, and he offered to watch you today."

Elliot paused and pondered over the news, "It's better than that Goren guy."

"Why?" she sighed, desperately wishing she hadn't asked so that they could get a move on. "What's wrong with Goren?"  
Elliot nearly sneered as he told her, "He's just…weird."

"So are you," she snapped, "Hurry up! I'm running late!" She whipped around and stalked out of the bathroom. Elliot pouted and scratched his head, wishing that his hair would grow back again soon.

Nearly twenty minutes later, he appeared in the living room. Walking over to where she sat on the couch, he offered her a weak smile. "I'm sorry Liv, but-"

"Can it, Stabler. I'm late because of you. Let's go, before I'm fired." She stood quickly and grabbed their coats, helping her partner into his. "Logan offered his place for the day, and I'm made sure to beat it into his thick skull- No Strenuous Activities." She turned Elliot around and smoothed out his jacket, "Understand?"

He gave her a sad version of the Stabler Grin and nodded, "Yeah."

"Good," she muttered, gently pushing him towards the door.

* * *

"Then he turns to me and says, 'what size shoe do _you_ wear?'" the hazeled-eyed detective broke off into laughter. "I swear, Goren must've overhead him telling me all about it, cause the guy is blushing like a schoolgirl from across the room!" Both Logan and Elliot broke off into rumbling laughter.

"So, Logan," he waited until the larger man caught his breath before questioning, "How'd you get suspended this time?"

"Why's it have to be something I did?" he protested, pointing at himself innocently. When Stabler gave him a look he sighed, "I may or may not have punched a suspect during an interrogation. It all remains to be seen…" he muttered and stared down at his hands.

"Sounds right up your alley," Stabler chuckled, leaning back into the couch. He yawned and ran a hand over his head. "I'm beat."

"Yeah? Guess it's time for your, uh, nap or something." Logan shrugged and stood up. "You can crash on my bed if ya like, I changed the sheets."

Elliot shook his head, "Nah, the couch is fine."

Logan nodded and headed off towards the kitchen, "You good? Take your meds, and stuff?" He shuffled around, unsure as to what to do. "You need something to drink?"

Laughing, Elliot responded, "Relax Logan, I'm fine. I'm just tired." Turning onto his side, he fingered the worn carpet and sighed. "Thanks for offering, Mike. It's not really like you do something…like that."

"Yeah, well," Logan scratched his head and threw a hand up into the air. "Brothers in blue look out for one another, ya know?"

"Yeah," he yawned, "'Sides…if I were to be stuck with Munch again, I would have thrown myself out in front of a car."

Logan chuckled, "He's still going at it, huh?" Turning to leave again, he paused and called out, "You better not snore, Stabler."

"Shut up Logan," he muttered into the couch, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

With the sky threatening to open up and pound rain upon the people of New York, Mike managed to drag his charge into the building that housed Manhattan SVU and eventually into the bullpen. The room was virtually empty, save for a handful of detectives catching up on paperwork. Spotting Olivia, Mike sighed and lugged Stabler over to her desk.

"You owe me money for cleaning supplies," he muttered as Elliot settled himself into what used to be his desk. It currently belonged to whatever temporary replacement they dragged in to partner with Benson.

"Why? What did you do?" she questioned, looking over to check on Elliot. He looked worn out and pale.

Rolling his eyes, Logan perched himself on the edge of Olivia's desk. "Why's it always me? I didn't do anything, he" he motioned towards Stabler, "Managed to puke up a whole weeks worth of food though."

"Are you still feeling sick?" she asked softly, concern etched into her face. Elliot shook his head slowly and rubbed his stomach.

"I'm sore, and tired…but I'm better." He responded hoarsely, his throat raw from being sick. He looked over at Logan and smiled weakly. "I owe ya Logan…I thought you were going to pass out."

"I almost did when I smelled-" he stopped short and greened suddenly, "Never mind. Look, we're good. Just get some rest, huh?" He stood and offered his hand to shake, before grinning and Olivia. "Good night kiss?"  
Olivia hung her head and flipped a pen onto her desk. Turning to face the large detective, she smirked. "Fine, make it quick."

Eyes lit up with glee, Logan leaned down and placed a small one on her lips. Pulling away quickly, he avoided her flinging arm. "You said quick! Not cheek!" he laughed, before rubbing his arm. "You pack a hell of a punch, sweetheart. By the way," he motioned at her lips and his own, "It was good for me, how 'bout you?" Elliot even offered a laugh when Olivia stood and took a step towards Logan, who retreated hotly. "Night guys, take care." Hw waved goodbye and exited the squad room.

"What a ass," Olivia chuckled, as she sat back down. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I was just getting up from a nap and it hit me, I almost didn't make it to the bathroom."

"Okay," she stood up once more, "I'm done for the night. Let's get you back home and to bed," she offered her hand, which he took.

"Sounds great," he yawned, following her lead.

"You have an appointment tomorrow, with John…" she paused in the large frame of the SVU bullpen. "To discuss the other option…the surgery. They may be able to remove the rest of it if it's shrunk down enough…"

"Once again, sounds great…can we go? I'm about to fall down here."

Olivia smiled, "Sure, come on."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Sorry for the wait, and for the crappy turn out...**

**Please review...?**


	4. Chapter 4

Sunlight cut through the lanky branches of the surrounding trees, casting dark shadows over mourning faces. A cool breeze began to pick up, swirling long black dresses and tugging at well groomed ties. A sob broke the nearly serene silence that had settled heavily over the scattered groups of men and women paying their condolences.

The soft murmuring emitted from the priest accompanied the sporadic cries. Several officers lined shoulder to shoulder followed their commands, shouldering their rifles, before firing twenty one times in the air. Each shot cracked sharply, sending up white smoke that was visible in the cool air.

"Fair winds and following seas," someone had muttered solemnly towards the Heavens, before offering a crisp salute.

Olivia Benson had to look at the ground several times, studying her shoes and the way they sunk in the dew soaked grass. She set her jaw and looked up once again, tears shining blatantly in her brown eyes. God, how she missed him so much already. They knew the complications of brain surgery, they discussed it up and down, left and right, and in the end it was the decision her partner settled for. And it cost him his life.

_"Everything's gonna be okay," he had said. "I'll fix this." _

John Munch cleared his throat quietly, thanking his dark sunglasses for covering his eyes, filled to the brim with tears. He took a deep breath and scanned the area, looking anywhere but at the large box that held his coworker and friend. Thinking back to all the good times, he couldn't help let slip the tiniest of smirks when he came upon a fond memory.

_"You get to Tribeca a lot?" he questioned, leaning extremely far into the suspects comfort zone._

_"You don't have to answer that."_

_"What questions _can_ your client answer?"_

_"Anything that is a matter of public record. I wanna know what my client is being charged with." The lawyer had looked between his coworker and himself, becoming annoyed at the detectives. _

_Munch had suppressed a smile, pointed at his colleague casually and retorted, "You don't have to answer that."_

Fin Tutuola hunched his shoulders against the cold, burrowing his fingers deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket. He wearily eyed the others around him, making no attempt to school his sullen look. This wasn't his first funeral of a friend, and it wouldn't be his last.

_"What's the matter with him?" he had asked, draping his coat over his chair._

_"Injured in the line of duty," Fin had responded, a smile on his face._

_Per usual, Munch joked, "Now I'm a pain in my own ass."_

Don Cragen knew he pulled the hangdog look well, he also knew that now was not the time to do so. A friend, a coworker, a son of his died and was being buried before him today. He couldn't believe that this was how it ended for the younger man, that he had outlived him. Giving a sharp salute of his own, he watched teary-eyed as the other brothers in blue followed suit.

_After flushing the toilet, Cragen stepped out of the stall to find his team lounging around waiting for him. Turning to his lead detective, he joked,"I'm not tipping all of you."_

_"Captain, we got a problem," was how the blue eyed man responded._

People began dispersing, throwing in their last condolences to the widow before leaving to be with their own families, and giving thanks to the Heavens that they still had families to go home to. Benson had lingered behind, hands clasped before her, eyes trained on the blonde.

"Kathy-"

"Please," she interrupted, her face a blotchy red mess. "Please, Olivia, don't. I don't..." she gathered her breath, and her courage Olivia supposed, and tried again. "I want to say I don't blame you, because it was down to him in the end...but I'd be lying. It's not your fault," she added quickly. Her voice began thickening with emotion, "But I don't know who else to blame." Olivia accepted her in her arms, trying to offer any comfort she could.

"I understand." Benson took a deep breath, and hugged her best friend's wife tighter. "I understand, Kathy."

Pulling away from the embrace with a sniffle, Kathy smiled shakily and nodded. "Thank you, Olivia...I'm sorry too."

Olivia nodded, and allowed the other woman to walk away, her mourning children already in the car. Left alone, Olivia looked around and barely managed to suppress another wave of despairing tears. Her friend chose life saving surgery, that ultimately killed him. Had he not done the surgery, the cancer in his brain would have been the death of him anyway.

"Was there any chance?" she whispered, kneeling in the wet grass before the mound of fresh dirt. Toying with a blade of the green grass beneath her hands, she sighed and nodded. "I love you, Elliot Stabler. You're the best friend anyone could ever have...and the best partner. I'm sorry this happened to you, it just doesn't seem fair...but I love you, El, and I know I'll see you again one day."

Patting the mound of dirt, and wiping at the tears that finally escaped onto her cheeks, she looked up at the Heaven's where she knew he was smirking down at her and whispered, "Semper Fi."

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
